A Small Town
by LaPapesseJohanna
Summary: After the death of her father, witness protection relocates Nijima Makoto from Tokyo to the rural town of Kuromachi. But what may appear as a safe and simple country life might be a guise for something sinister. It takes a curious outsider and a fed-up delinquent to uncover the truth. [AU where personas don't exist and Makoto is the new kid.]
1. Welcome

A/N: This is the same story of the same title published in AO3 under the Anonymous collections. I am just moving it here as well under my new pen name. Also, I tried to upload this story here on , but because I had most of the drafts saved under Ao3's actual drafting web page, the coding kinda got messed up in between the copy-pasting. So here it is, hopefully, in a better format! I apologize for how weird or inconvenient that may have been.

I will upload the remaining 8 chapters sometime later tonight. Please give this a like/follow if you enjoyed reading! As always, comments are appreciated.

...

Makoto stepped off the train mildly bewildered and thoroughly unimpressed. Clutching a worn Buchimaru-kun pencil case close to her heart, she looked around in the dusty haze that swept the sleepy village of Kuromachi. It happened to be a rather warm stuffy Saturday in April, and though the station was almost bare, the ghostly emptiness did nothing but make room for hotter, stifling wind.

She swallowed the ball of air caught in her throat and proceeded further onto the platform. Looking around, she spotted what seemed like vintage posters glaring from the brick-lined walls. What she could imagine to have been bright and bold colors was muted under a layer of dust. One bill teased the release of "Talon III: The Final Battle" and promised a summertime release, but the rather 80s-looking design and moth-eaten corners of the paper made her think many summers may have passed since.

Makoto had a sense that she was floating through some sort of ghost town. Kuromachi appeared by all means abandoned, without even one station worker huddled behind the grime-covered window of the nearby kiosk. The last sound she heard was the distant roar of the train engine, receding further into blurry cascade of mountains leagues away. That everything was bare left her feeling drowsy, almost dreamlike. Unfamiliar emptiness would have that effect on any unassuming traveler.

The journey from Tokyo was a good 4 hours - long enough to render Kuromachi entirely remote for any urban dweller. But four hours was faster than the expected travel time of 4 hours and 15 minutes, now that she remembered it. Her eyes darted from the desolate surroundings to her wristwatch: 13:45. She was 15 minutes early.

Sae, her older sister, was meant to pick her up at 14:00 - the exact time of her train's arrival. But Kuromachi Station was the sort of stop trains would breeze through. Lined with nothing more than farming hamlets hundreds of kilometers apart, and with no adjacent metropolitan area to wake the town from its own lull, it was the sort of place that even train conductors could forget even existed. With nothing else to keep them busy, the trains hurried on, and so Makoto Nijima a little too early for anyone to welcome her to her new home.

"Excuse me!"

A voice snapped Makoto back to the real world. The jolt shook her and loosened her grip on her pencil case. Buchimaru-kun soon plopped with a rather loud thud onto the concrete pavement.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she squeaked, without really even looking. She instinctively reached down for her pencil case while hashing out a flurry of mumbled apologies.

"I'm sorry.. I-... I was just looking around for my sister, and I didn't even notice someone else was here… It's so empty, and I guess I wasn't paying attention-"

Makoto looked up amid her panic and saw a mop of dark frizzy hair resting on a pair of large eyeglasses. The person - in fact, the person's face - seemed altogether dwarfed by such prominent features, and all she could see was _her _own reflection in those glasses, shining with rather cartoonish lens flare.

A boy, Makoto guessed. He wore checkered pants that bore a familiar navy-blue and plaid color scheme, paired with a signature navy blue blazer.

"Ano-..." Makoto stammered, her hand independently fumbling about for her prized pencil case.

"You…" _go to my school_, she wanted to say. But the question lost itself just as she sensed his own body shift with the beginning of her observation.

The boy sensed nothing of her own social mishap. He seemed to look intently at her, as if he was puzzling her existence before him altogether. Curiously, she saw him look lower, as if he was paying attention to her skirt.

Makoto felt his gaze and reddened at the notion. She immediately stood up to prevent further scrutiny.

What Makoto didn't realize was that she _too _donned the rather posh uniform of Shujin Academy - the elite high school tucked away in the pastoral town of Kuromachi. Her skirt also bore the navy-blue and plaid color scheme. Though her blazer was still in her suitcase, she wore the white turtleneck that fit snugly, especially in the heat, due to its authentic cotton fabric. They were two strangers that went to the same school. And so the stranger sustained their shared yet perplexed silence, both of them mulling over how and why two students of Shuji were at the train station on a Saturday afternoon.

"Excuse me," he croaked out.

That he uttered a word at all made Makoto jump. His aloof and readily quiet demeanor made speaking altogether appear uncharacteristic for him. And in her surprise, she failed to respond. Makoto was hard-pressed as to her next course of action.

The stranger was unbothered by her stoicism and proceeded to kneel before her. He quickly grabbed the lost Buchimaru-kun pencil case as it straggled just an inch before Makoto's searching hand. "You dropped this." He held it out to her with neither a smile nor a frown to accompany the gesture.

Makoto didn't know what to do at first. It seemed rather odd, after all, to be in such a derelict station having the most mundane of interaction _and _misunderstanding to befall any single individual.

_Weird_, her mind blurted out in the safe space of her thoughts. _This boy is weird_.

An eternity seemed to have passed, and finally Makoto recollected herself. She took the pencil case back with a nod of gratitude, finally relieving the boy of having to keep his arm in an outstretched position. They both rose promptly.

"I'm sorry again," she said with surer footing. "I'm usually more careful. I think I'm just tired from the long train ride."

The boy nodded, as if in tacit approval.

_Man of a few words_, she thought. "Ano, your uniform…"

"New to Shujin?"

The question caught her just as she fiddled with a loose strand of her hair. It was a habit of fussing when there was nothing to fuss over, and it helped smooth otherwise awkward interactions.

"Yes, I am... actually," she said with a hint of surprise.

For his part, the boy seemed unfazed by the information he asked for. He merely nodded as if that meant something to Makoto. Moments passed without a word before a gentle nudge from a wayward breeze broke the silence. The boy shrugged as if their conversation was as good as over.

Behind the annoying lens flare of his glasses, Makoto couldn't really make out any emotion from his eyes, much less a coherent facial expression. He moved and spoke with a terseness that was somewhat off-putting, as if any more or any less would have been a waste of his breath.

"Ja," he mumbled. The boy let fall a wave before putting his hands into his pockets. And with that he sauntered past Makoto. The click of his school shoes echoed through the empty platform.

"Weird," she murmured, her gaze following him as he crossed the platform and proceeded down the stairs that led to a subterranean access way.

Makoto glanced at her recently retrieved Buchimaru-kun. A faint coating of dust layered its already worn-down face. She sighed, thinking about the rather eventful five minutes that had just elapsed since getting off the train.

_So this is Kuromachi_.

Her eyes went from the pencil case to the stained-glass dome above her. The station was a half-open platform that looked more like an expansive gazebo. In better weather, this open-air concept would have been a blessing, but the sun was hot, and the wind didn't do anyone any favors.

Makoto sighed, wondering at the unusual warmth that such a small mountain town was experiencing. Without further thought, she looked to her own direction, where there were stairs before her. She was sure Sae would get to the arrivals parking much earlier than expected, and it would be quite a strain on their newfound living arrangement if Makoto made her older sister wait. She then proceeded down the small set of stairs, which ushered her to the concrete slab of the "Pick-up/Drop-off" area.

This was her new home.


	2. Sisters

"Looks like your train arrived early."

Sae called out to her younger sister in between puffs of her cigarette. She leaned coolly against a parked sedan, its sleek black coat shining against the glare of the sun. It had been two years since they last saw each other, and in that time Makoto found that a lot has changed.

The small town defense attorney looked too grand for the village scene, with her chestnut hair pulled back in a half-coiffed bun and her nails lacquered in alluring burgundy. Most striking of all was the designer pantsuit, an all-black get-up with gold trimmings that boasted a more upscale background story for Sae than Makoto would have liked. Strangely enough, Makoto had an uncomfortable notion that Sae looked more out of place than _she _, the recent transplant, did.

"_ You're _early too, sis."

Makoto tried to stick a smile onto the quip, but much like she remembered from before, joking - or even _talking _\- to Sae was a hit or miss. One moment Sae seemed fully engaged, and the next, she was a wall of indifference. Her banter was thus met with a mere shrug as Sae put out her cigarette and quickly jostled to the car door. The paragon of efficiency, Sae didn't utter another word. She merely pressed her clicker twice to signal to Makoto that all the doors were unlocked. She was free to let herself in.

The younger sister bit her lip, stifling back an aggravated sigh. She wordlessly threw her luggage in the trunk before settling into the passenger's seat. Since leaving Tokyo, it seemed Sae's car, with its fresh wave of air conditioned breeze, was the only thing that truly welcomed her. Makoto wasn't sure what to make of that.

Two years ago, Makoto could chuck it up to the trials and tribulations of being a young female prosecutor. But things have changed. Their father was dead, and Sae was caught in the limbo of a brutal job market. Now, all they had was each other. Taking a glance on the rearview mirror, Makoto could recognize the steeley eyes of concentration as Sae reversed out of the parking lot and drove onto the gravelly road.

"I'm glad you got your uniform on," Sae mentioned. Cool red eyes glinted from the rearview mirror onto Makoto. "I know it's last minute, but it's important we meet your teachers today. I don't want any of... _this _to delay your studies."

Makoto waited for Sae to elaborate, or even qualify what she meant by _this _. But when her _Neechan _met her with more stony silence, Makoto couldn't help but feel her stomach sink. _Am I bothering you, sis? _The question floated in her mind, ready to break the wordless exchange. But the questioned stopped at the base of her throat, and an itch pushed out a cough instead. Her fingers clutched at the edges of the leather seat while she kept a blank gaze at the road ahead of them. _Better to not say anything at all _.

"No, I think it's a great idea," Makoto chirped. She could tell that her voice was somewhat strained, as if forced into its cheery tone. But Sae paid no mind. Or more likely, she didn't care.

Another wave of silence swept over them, and soon Makoto too tried to focus much of her energy on the road.

To Makoto's surprise, the road was long and narrow, more cramped perhaps than any alleyway in Tokyo. Yet looking out the window, she saw nothing but open space: an expanse of dried up grass and a bulwark of trees off to the distance. From time to time, a slight bump in the road would cue Makoto in on the gravelly, somewhat underdeveloped state of things in Kuromachi. And as the car whizzed past the emptiness, Makoto also noticed that not a house was in sight. Greying highway signs and speed limits were the only markers of human habitation, or so it seemed. "Shujin Academy is a bit out of the way, actually," Sae said suddenly. "It's about a 20-30 minute drive."

"_ Everything _seems out of the way around here," Makato retorted, not without a hint of exasperation. But it only took a split second before her face reddened from self-piteous regret. She didn't mean to sound so cold, least of all to her sister. Desperate to play down her sarcasm, Makoto leaned against the car window and feigned sleepiness as she looked out to the barren, rustic scene before her.

"I won't actually have time to drop you off everyday, and they don't really have a bus or train system for students," Sae continued without skipping a beat. "So I asked my-... our neighbor, Sakura-san, to just let you carpool."

"That's nice of him." Makoto kept her gaze out the window, but her eyes moved, with a gleam of curiosity, to its reflection of her sister. "Is he a teacher? Why is he driving to Shujin everyday?"

Another bout of silence. Makoto wasn't exactly sure if she said something wrong. Her fingers continued scratching the edge of her leather seat, finding solace in the near-imperceptible noise it made.

"He has a foster kid living with him," Sae finally picked up, her voice softer than the muted hum of the engine. "A kid who lost his parents recently."

Makoto looked away from the scenery. She turned, more curious than she was sympathetic, to hear more of the story. "Just like us?" she barely whispered.

A slight and inexplicable grin crept on Sae's lips. "You can say that."

The cool lawyer made a slight turn. Terraces and man-made hills lined the concrete as the gravel gave way to a snaking, concrete road. Soon, shacks started to pop up in view, replete with humble verandas and quaint sliding doors. A speed limit sign cautioned the driver to slow as they entered the residential zone. Even from within a car, Makoto could hear the faint wind chimes as they breezed past the otherwise uninhabited street.

"But anyway, that kid goes to Shujiin, and Sakura-san drives him every morning. I made an arrangement so he'd let you come along."

"That's nice." Makoto smiled at Sae, hoping that her positive and hopeful energy made itself felt. She could tell from this explanation that Sae was a little worried. After all, it was only two years ago when Sae, the star pupil of law school and most promising of lawyers in Tokyo, won the miserable lottery of a stable yet unglamorous job in the country. They never spoke about it much, but Makoto recalled tense conversations between father and eldest daughter, arguing over the dissatisfaction of such an unreasonably ambitious young woman. Now, the question of how her sister would fit in such a radically different world than Tokyo was utmost in both the Nijimas' minds. Makoto could only imagine what a rough transition it was for Sae. _She _had been alone all this time, after all.

"They're coming over for dinner," Sae added casually. "It's a good idea, I think..." Her voice trailed off with the same level of assertion present throughout her speech. Yet it allowed room for something more than Sae let on, giving her otherwise nonplussed demeanor an uncharacteristic hint of doubt. Makoto could only speculate as to the troubles her sister was mulling over.

"I want to help you with dinner," Makoto chimed. Hearing the cheerfulness in her own voice seemed to quell the loud noise of guilt in her mind. "I know you're busy with work, so please let me help!"

Sae chuckled, resting her left arm to the side while the other steered the wheel in lackadaisical confidence. It was the kind of pose that Makoto expected would come so naturally to someone as effortless as her big sister.

"There's no need," she answered. "Sakura-san insisted on bringing food."

"Eh?" Makoto shot her a quizzical look, half risiting to her seat. "But he's our guest!" That the rules of hospitality would be so nonchalantly flaunted was truly bizarre to someone like Makoto, remembering the countless years when her father instilled the strict rule that one must _always _observe conventions of hospitality.

The older sister merely shrugged as she focused her energy on turning to the next street. "Trust me. You'll be glad he insisted."

"Huh…" Makoto settled back in her seat. Something about Sae's tight-lipped countenace intimidated her younger sister into complacent silence. "I guess if it's alright with him."

_Country people are weird _.

Makoto looked out once more. The scenery was taking on more familiarity as the open spaces narrowed to cordonned lawns and compact homes. An unusual amount of green seemed to pervade residential Kuromachi, with its bright green grass lawns as its most glaring feature. Once or twice, she saw figures walking hazily as the car glided past them, one after another. An old lady here, or a child walking their bike there. No one in between.

_Well, except for that guy…_

Indeed, her mind wandered to the strange boy she encountered at the station - one who happened to be a fellow Shujin student. She pondered his somewhat aloof countenance, remembering nothing but the mop of frizzy hair and oversized glasses. The thought made her feel for the Buchimaru-kun pencil case she left on the side of her seat cushion. Brushing her fingers against it, she could still feel the coating of dust from when she dropped it.

_What's Shujin going to be like? _she thought to herself. Since leaving Tokyo, Makoto felt trapped in a trance-like state. The hours blurred before her, and like the scenery outside the car window, seemed to soar beyond her as she moved from one part of her life to the next. None of it seemed to be under her control.

_I don't mind if they're weird _, she mused. _As long as they leave me alone…_

Instinctively, Makoto clutched her pencil case tighter. The rubbery feel of the case felt soft against her hands, smoothed by years of clutching and holding. Yet, a tick remained in the otherwise soothing habit: the layer of dust stubbornly remaining no matter how many times she brushed it.

Tired, Makoto closed her eyes, sensing that home was still a far ways away.


	3. Mission Start: Case File Lavenza

Warning: graphic imagery and mention of blood; description of PTSD  
Note: Chichi - Japanese for "father" or "Dad"

Chapter Text

Makoto dreamed she was floating.

She felt the lull of an engine humming loudly against her skin, and the darkness around her caved until it slowed - dithering abruptly to a halt.

"That's strange."

Makoto opened her eyes to a blurry world. Outside, a hazy dusk flashed a strange red and blue. Rain had settled in. Droplets cascaded down to ripples against the windshield, broken intermittently by the insistent rub of the wipers as they fanned across the glass.

"Wait here," Sae said tersely. Her car door swung open. All Makoto heard was the sound of thunder rumbling from far away and the clatter of raindrops crashing against gravel and stone. Sae's heels clicked against the ground before she disappeared, letting the car door slam behind her.

Makoto sleepily rubbed her eyes with the point of her knuckles. She felt like a child sitting inside the car all alone, trying to make out the mass of dark shades huddled just a slight distance from the car. Here and there, a shape would give way to the flash of red and blue, blinding her as it swept across the horizon.

_Lights… Police lights?_

Makoto rubbed her eyes harder to jolt herself awake, but there was something that bothered her - like a fright she couldn't quite shake off. She could feel the tiny hairs of her arm prickle like static against her flesh.

_Makoto stay inside _.

Her father's voice. Alone. Yet confident. Tragically confident.

_Chichi!_

In her mind, her plaintive calls were drowned out. The voice of her father echoed in her ears, as if she heard them over and over in an endless loop.

A vacuum effect deafened her ears before she flashed back. Back to the tiny sedan, sheltered from the rain.

"Sis!" she blurted out with a loud knock against the window. She felt panic seize her as she hurriedly fiddled with the seatbelt, somewhat relieved when it finally clicked with release. Her eyes searched wildly through the window, but she saw nothing save for the shapes outside all blended into nameless shadows. The intermittent glow of red and blue lights were the only telltale signs. A chill crept up her spine.

Makoto shoved her entire weight against the car door, as if simply opening it wasn't enough.

"Sis!" she called out again, but her voice sounded hollow against the deafening rain.

_But it was sunny just now..._

It took Makoto a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep during the car ride. Had it been mere minutes? Hours? The low, thickening rumble of clouds gave no answer.

There wasn't much Makoto could see of the scene. A crowd of people, some in dark rain coats, and others in more noticeable yellow, bag-like ponchos. They were all huddled around something, pushing into the center until they all became indistinct as the clouds above. Though visibility was low, Makoto could squint and see the frame of a modest two-story house before them. Some lights flickered on, shielded by sparse spindly trees weaving around the road behind them.

"Ne! What's going on?!" Makoto grabbed hold of a policeman nearby. He was also garbed in the glaringly yellow raincoat while his hands flailed in frantic gestures to redirect the movement around them.

"Step aside miss. This is a crime scene. Investigators and officials only," he responded gently. His speech was punctuated by a slight wave before he redirected his attention to the next passerby, just as confused and just as hungry for answers as she.

Makoto hugged herself. She felt cold, the water like frozen needles stiffening the cotton fabric of her drenched uniform.

_Makoto stay inside _. The voice was haunting her, taunting her to back away.

Her legs were shaking. She couldn't move them. A police siren blared a few feet away as the red-blue lights flashed across her eyes.

"Hey! What happened over here?!"

From the corner of her eyes, she could see a silhouette push past her to the policeman. He had yellow hair - roughened and paled by bleach - and a loud, rattled voice.

"Sir, please step away."

"Dammit! You can't do this!" The young man fought hard, but he too was turned away.

Other voices soon joined his protests, crescendoing as the shadows around her made way. The empty town of Kuromachi suddenly bristled with gray, amorphous life. They were mere silhouettes panicking around Makoto.

Soon, other policemen in their yellow raincoats rushed past them. They were all rolling a gurney. A pale bluesheet hung over it, suggestively outlining the contours of an unmoving body.

"Make way! This is a crime scene!"

The crowd pushed past Makoto. As the gurney rattled towards the ambulance, Makoto saw it trip over a rock, and the pale blue sheet fell partly to the side. She saw golden hair, glimmering like priceless treasure, and the beginnings of flesh. Blood shone like scarlet in the rain, splattered and crusted as it were on the dead body's hair.

Whispered voices trailed the gurney.

"They say it was that foreign exchange student…"

"No kidding?! What was her name? Lavenza-san?!"

"Yeah, the one the Sakamoto family was hosting."

Makoto's eyes were transfixed. She tailed the gurney, seeing it lifted ceremoniously to the ambulance. Another group of men crowded around it before the doors were shut closed. It was familiar somehow - a scene she had dreamed over and over.

"Makoto! Hey Makoto!"

She felt a hand grip her forearm, jolting her from her a nightmarish trance.

"I told you to wait in the car!" It was Sae. Her brows were furrowed and stern.

Makoto looked dumbly back at her sister. She too was drenched, her chestnut hair snaking along her cheeks like vines.

"Sis…" she stammered out. It took Makoto a few moments to realize she was still shaking.

Sae gasped at the current state of her younger sister. She had a sickly pallor and was shaking uncontrollably. True it was raining, but it wasn't enough to make one so deathly cold. Sae could almost hear her younger sister's teeth chatter.

Sae looked away for a brief moment. Makoto's trembling was hard to watch. It was as if her younger sister - the cheery and fastidious creature she had come to known - disappeared into a terrified shell of a person.

"I'm sorry," Sae muttered apologetically. "I forgot-..." She stopped, unsure if even uttering the word _Dad _would have been a safe bet. "Nevermind," she said sternly before offering a piteous smile, softening her features as a soothing gesture. "We shouldn't stay here."

She draped an arm over Makoto's shoulder, ushering her younger sister away from the frantic scene. The two walked close together until they got to the car.

The tempestuous rain calmed to a gentle shower. The two were soaking, but even as Sae tried to hold her sister close, there was still some intangible, unbridgeable distance between them. Makoto felt miles apart to Sae, much to the latter's chagrin. She was clearly lost in a traumatic loop of past memories.

The car door was open, and Makoto seemed to glide in her stupor. The other ran around and quickly assumed the driver's seat. Sae looked, not without a tinge of irritation, at all the water she wrought on her leather seats.

"I'll take you home, okay?" she said with a fledgling tone of reassurance.

From her side, Makoto was still shaking, but something in her eyes shone like a resumed state of consciousness. Still, she gave no answer.

Sae shrugged and revved the engine.

"Sis," Makoto said suddenly. Her voice was frail, a little mousy.

"Hm?"

"Chichi…" Makoto's eyes fell on her lap. Sae noted with surprise that her sister's hands were already toying with an old, cartoonish pencil case. "That looked a little too much like what happened to Chichi."

Sae sat in tight-lipped silence. Though she hadn't been there when… _it _… happened, she was too busy gathering information to even connect the two murders together, or consider the possibility of triggering PTSD in Makoto. A heavy pause fell on the lawyer's shoulders that made it impossible to think. One hand hovered ready over the steering wheel and another on the gear stick. The lawyer pondered her words, mulling carefully over the import of her meaning.

"I shouldn't have stopped," she finally said. "This isn't something for you to see." Sae mechanically put the car in reverse. She backed up, carefully and deftly avoiding the crowd. It wasn't long before the tires found concrete again. "We're actually not that far from home. We'll skip the school visit for now." Sae's red eyes scanned the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of her near-catatonic sister. "I'll also call off dinner with Sakura-san. You need to get some rest."

Makoto nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the pencil case.

"We'll start over tomorrow."

To: Nijima.S

Subject: [REDACTED]

CC: [REDACTED]

Time stamp: 19:04

Nijima-san, please report to the office immediately. Prosecutor out of town. The Chief superintendent wants you on the case. Police report: homicide victim identified as Elizabeth Lavenza, an exchange student hosted by one Mrs. [REDACTED] Sakamoto. No witnesses. Investigators in search of possible suspects. The district has sent Detective Gorou Akechi to aid in the investigation. You must guide him to the crime scene tomorrow after his arrival at the Kuromachi South Transportation Center.


	4. Criminal

Amimya Ren let the cafe door slam closed behind him. The entry bell's protracted ring seemed hollow in the vacant store.

"You're home early," Sojiro quipped. He didn't take his eyes off from the plates he was drying.

"The lawyers couldn't reach a deal," he answered, delivering the disappointing news with an air of indifference. To which Sojiro shrugged, sighing as if every tired bone in his body disapproved with him. Ren could tell that the older man wanted to breach even _more _of the subject, but he instead feigned an absent-minded look that said he was much too tired, much too spacey to talk about his parents and probationary status. So silence followed, much to Ren's satisfaction.

He then paused before the counter, scanning the empty booths. "Business is going well," he remarked loudly. The aloof teen adjusted his glasses with the point of his finger, slightly shifting his shoulder to let his posture droop in a casual manner.

"Got any change from the taxi?"

Ren shook his head. "They raised the fare."

"Bastards."

Sojiro put the plate he was drying down. The aged barista took a glance at the scrawny lad before him, suddenly remembering the hour and circumstances of the day. "You should sit down. I'll fix you dinner."

"Un," Ren mumbled before grabbing a seat. He threw his school bag on a nearby chair. It was dripping wet from the rain, but neither men seemed to mind the mess it made.

In the background, the TV featured an emotionless anchor reciting facts and details. The specific times, places, and people escaped Ren's wandering attention. All he heard was the white noise emanating from the junky TV and the pitter patter of rain on the shingles. He would have normally found those sounds soothing, but there was a deafening quality to its sustained drone. It pricked at his ears, fighting to be heard.

"I saw a girl at the train station today," he announced out of the blue. Ren was normally not the type to start conversations. Ice breakers weren't exactly his forte, but something about the TV and its droning pointed to the strange encounter he had much earlier in the day. He had an unshakeable feeling that he should've known her somehow. Not that he believed that they had ever met, but his gut told him he had forgotten something important. It didn't help that his mind was lost in a fog almost the entire day.

"Finally showing interest in girls?" the old geezer asked, not without a sly grin on his face. He quietly stirred a ladle over a big pot. From where Ren sat, the fragrant aroma of golden curry was filling the small and cramped kitchen. It was homely and familiar, especially to one as homeless and unfamiliar as Ren. Something about it coaxed him into a sense of comfort, enough to let himself acknowledge that he had been hungry, after all. He needed to sit down and have some dinner.

"Yes, I met _the one_," Ren deadpanned. He didn't quite like how pushy Sojiro was about making Ren into some debonair bachelor, but it was endearing enough to warrant an irreverent response.

"Atta boy," Sojiro said with a chuckle.

Ren's eyes quickly shifted back to the TV, as if it was all he needed to hash up an entirely different subject. "It was weird. She was the only one there."

His glasses reflected the bright blue background of the newsroom. Large characters in bold white highlighted in red flashed across the screen. Ren read the captions, but the meaning didn't quite hold.

_Homicide in Kuromachi. Victim Female High School Student. Suspect remains at large._

"You must have met Nijima-san's sister," Sojiro piped up. "She was supposed to arrive earlier today."

Ren didn't follow up on Sojiro's answer. He had his attention on the TV. Censored images floated on the screen, and a picture of his school - Shujin Academy - flashed before the segment transitioned to an interview with a police officer.

_"So far no possible suspects. We are questioning the host family at the moment. Please give them privacy during this sensitive time."_

"Was she cute at least?" Sojiro asked.

Ren knew he meant well, but something about the teasing question felt bitter. "I hope she's okay," he muttered, failing to distinguish between the words of Sojiro and that of the monotone anchor.

"Oh yeah, which reminds me…" The old barista left his ladle to glide in the swirl of curry. He ambled back towards the counter and handed a ready cup of coffee to his ward. "Nijima-san cancelled dinner. Apparently her sister isn't feeling well."

Ren tried to recall what this younger sister looked like in the train station. All he remembered was that she was a bit airy and had a cute chibi-looking pencil case. "Are we still carpooling?"

Sojiro nudged his shoulder and, like his ward, redirected his attention to the TV. "Nijima-san said she'd text me sometime tonight."

The two men paused. Nothing but the slight whistle of a rice cooker filled the room. Somehow, Ren heard it more than he did the TV.

"A homicide huh," the old man puzzled audibly as he pulled a cigarette out from his back pocket. Ren heard the harsh metallic flick of a lighter, and a small ember shone from his guardian's hand. "What's the world coming to these days…"

The teen cupped the mug of coffee in between his hands. Strangely, the ceramic already felt cold.

"Did you know the girl?"

Ren shook his head. "She was in a different class."

The two fell into another bout of silence. Neither of them knew what to do or what to say. For his part, Ren felt a little lost in limbo, as if he was offensively too alive, too aloof when he should have been mourning.

"Things like this never happen here," Sojira said, shaking his head. He breathed a long inhalation, and the ember of his cigarette glowed. "In all my fifty years," he sighed, trailing off with what was unspeakable.

Somehow, Ren couldn't stop thinking about the younger Nijima sister, who looked confused and flustered as she stumbled into their quiet little village. It had been the first time - in quite a long time - that someone didn't recoil upon seeing him; or worse, retreat in harsh whispers. Granted, this newcomer had no reason to judge him beforehand. Surely the gossip hadn't reached the Nijima household in much the same way as it swept the rest of Shujin. He wondered if she too heard of the other more macabre news just as she arrived; or if it bothered her at all. Looking back at the TV, the frizzy-haired teen wondered why indeed it would. She was a stranger who knew no one.

"You should get some sleep soon as you're done with this." Sojiro came with a plate full of rice and curry, slamming it down the counter in front of Ren. "You got a big day tomorrow."

Ren picked up his fork. The aroma was there. The appetizing golden sheen of the sauce. The steam rose tantalizingly from the rice. But he couldn't quite stomach it. Ren fiddled with the chopped potatoes in his meal, rolling it around and mixing it up to appear busy

_"Whoever it is, the perp is clearly a sick and demented individual_. _I mean… we could hardly use facial identification after what he did. Truly a sick and monstrous criminal_."

Criminal. The word echoed in Ren's mind.

Sojiro resumed the mundane task of drying dishes. He was busying himself away from the disheartening news.

_Is that what I am?_

Ren swirled the fork around his plate. Lifting rice over meat, meat over sauce until it became a heady mix of things.

The label "criminal" was now something he shared with a murderer.

A distant memory played in Ren's head. A cry for help. A man with a deathly glower. He wondered if poor Elizabeth Lavenza also cried for help, just like when that woman called out to him all those months ago.


End file.
